


A coveted birthday.

by virtute_alisque



Category: Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, i love them, just kind of fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtute_alisque/pseuds/virtute_alisque
Summary: A very precious present for Alan in the form of spending time with the one and only Kevin Flynn.
Relationships: Alan Bradley/Kevin Flynn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	A coveted birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> An older piece that has not been proof read. Finally publishing for the sake of any others who love Kevin and Alan as much as I do.

The board meeting had been as dull as ever. Kevin’s presence an unexpected phenomena, but not engaging as he checked his watch nervously. It had taken a great deal of strings to pull and a lot of Sam’s tears to explain why he needed to stay with his grandparents for the weekend. Kevin was a flash, just a blur, to them as he scrambled for the board meeting. The Chrysler TC roaring down the road instead of the beloved motorcycle. He’d thrown his bags hastily in the trunk and everyone saw him take up two parking spaces, but said nothing. The meeting dragged on and on. He was growing more and more restless by the second, his gaze searching from his watch to the familiar faces that surrounded him. One in particular catches his attention. Thankfully, Alan seemed more interested in the presentation than Kevin’s ogling (and when had he ever been one to acknowledge such ogling anyway?). Still, there’s a moment their eyes meet — blue on blue — and Kevin swears his heart stops. He’d been playing about on The Grid for what felt like ages this time. Time moves slower, he knows that, but once the reminder came through he rushed to leave. Finding that he’d wasted precious time when he could have been planning. Now he was left to his best attribute: quick thinking. And yet also his worst: thinking of others.

The meeting ends and he’s up out of his chair in an instance, mirroring Alan’s movements to the door. “Hey!” He exclaims, sidling himself between Alan and the doorframe. It’s a gentle, reserved, smile he gets and then; “Welcome back, Flynn.” Something in Kevin flutters, and he refuses to say it’s his _heart_ , when Alan gives him the slightest of welcoming smiles. Just behind the lens of his glasses, Kevin sees something of a gleam of relief (or maybe he’s just seeing things, making up an excuse to keep the eye contact up). It seems like an eternity of them just standing there before Kevin speaks again, “You busy?” The rest goes unsaid and he’s corralling Alan towards the elevator, rambling on about _this, that, and the other thing_. He’d cleared their schedules, there’s no paltry attempts to convince _Dr. Bradley_ not to work through the weekend.

Maybe there’s a reason it didn’t take much talk to convince him, but the moment Alan took up the passenger seat — the rest of the world faded away. It was them and the open road, the city shrinking in the mirrors. Center City is nothing but a thought of the past as they cruise down I-95, and Alan knows exactly where they’re going. The wind nearly drowns him out and he leans over to ask Kevin; “Jersey?” The ‘ _huh’_ is drowned out as Kevin grins at him — where else would he take him? Kevin reaches, daring to grasp Alan’s knee as he exits the highway, answering him as the wind dies down, “Well, **yeah**. What else are you going to do on your birthday, man? No better place to spend it than Ocean City’s boardwalk!” The look Alan gives him is so _Alan_ that it nearly makes him laugh. He can hear the argument before it even falls from his mouth and Kevin answers the concern; “I packed your bags myself. They’re in the trunk. It’s a wonder what a spare key can do.”

Alan’s face is flushed. It’s hard to tell if it’s from the wind, the intimate grasp on his knee, or the fact that Kevin merely let himself into his home uninvited. It all boils down to the root cause being Flynn himself and it’s a prideful smile he flashes in knowing this, the car rolling to a stop at the small beachfront rental. It’s small, but nice. Something to accommodate the two of them with the privacy they want and the beach view they need. Kevin carries their bags, fumbling with the lock briefly before entering the humble abode. There’s a cake on the kitchen counter, store bought and warm. It’s the thought that counts and the thoughts enough to draw a smile from Alan. At least he remembered. Not that it matters — and it doesn’t, he takes whatever time with Flynn he can, arguing importance on certain dates in Sam’s life than his own. Still, he’s incredibly touched and Kevin can tell by the soft, smitten, gaze he looks up to. It’s enough to give him butterflies, but he keeps his usual demeanor.

Arms sliding around Alan’s waist and tug lightly as if to break him out of his trance. Kevin’s smile never falters, burning brighter than the setting sun that shines through the large sliding doors of the kitchen. “So,” he purrs, teasing, “How old are you now... 50?”

They both laugh. Soft and amused, Alan’s hands carefully settling into the small of Kevin’s back even if they seemed hesitant. He’s always flustered by such open intimacy and Kevin wonders if Lora made him stumble this much or if it’s _just him_. That could be his pride talking, but as his mouth finds Alan’s it’s hard not to feel prideful at the small sigh he gets; the usual taut shoulders now lax as the man before Kevin becomes nothing but pliant and soft. They’re both left breathless, Alan’s lips red in the wake of Kevin’s passion and offending scruff. It’s hard to move away from him, but as he does he makes way for the kitchen.

“Time to blow out your candles birthday boy,” he says so matter-of-factly, words punctuated by the light thud of the plastic cake top hitting the counter. “And then I’ll give you your presents.” Alan is still flushed in the face, trying to catch his breath and keep up with the whiplash-inducing changes of Kevin’s train of thought. Ducking into the kitchen, he stares at the cake. The flame from the candles flickering and casting lines on their faces as he says; “You already kidnapped me. What else could a man want for his birthday?”

There’s a playful smile of his own he gives Kevin before promptly blowing the candles out and insisting on cutting into the cake before it goes bad (or, really, gets any worse than it is). It’s not much, but he’s never wanted anything but _time with Kevin_ — and maybe that makes him too **soft**. The way he leans into the warm body pressed into him, how he flushes at the dirty promise whispered in his ear. _Just for the birthday boy_ , Kevin punctuates his promise with teeth pulling at Alan’s ear lobe. Moments later and they’re on the beach. Hair windswept and nothing but the smell of saltwater drowning their senses. Somehow, through the harsh taste of salt they still find each other. Unspoken confessions swept out with the tide, shown in their actions. A warm touch, a passionate kiss, wordless sweet nothings. A low hum rises in Kevin’s chest, passing from his mouth to Alan’s. He tastes vaguely of cake, mostly of coffee (and God forbid Kevin Flynn run on anything other than caffeine), but it’s all so Kevin. If it’s not _donuts_ it’s some other ungodly pastry that makes Alan’s nose scrunch in the sheer overload of sugar.

Under the moonlight, serenaded by the ebbing tide, Alan professes his love in a look: simple and genuine. Raw and vulnerable, just for _him_ , between them both actions speak louder than words. Neither man a poet or exceptionally well versed in the disclosure of such dangerous secrets. And yet, the secret is laid out in the open. The only space between them enough to exchange a glance, a smile, and then the world melts away and it’s well past Alan’s _birthday hour_ , but Kevin’s never been one to keep track of time and for once, Alan is running on his clock rather than the rest of the world’s.


End file.
